A Different Kind
by lostariel.merilwen01
Summary: Claire, who now works for the newly reformed Primatech, is sent in on a dangerous mission to monitor a possible new special. No problemo! Only catch is, she has to be his maid...
1. Convincing

**So here is yet ANOTHER story. I have recently been very obsessed with Daredevil, so I decided that I should let it all out in the form of a story for you guys. This is sort of a crossover with that, but it doesn't have to be, and there is kind of no Daredevil category... :) Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot and any OCs I choose to bring in. XD Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Matt Murdock was late for work, again.<p>

If he had been confident that he wouldn't fall flat on his face, he would have run. But, unfortunately, even in his own, specially made apartment, he was not confident to move at any pace faster than a walk. Well, not anymore.

He pulled out the cases his kept his money in from under the bench, and felt the tops of them to see what money was contained inside. When he decided what he wanted, he opened them and pulled out what he wanted, before folding it in two different ways so he would mix up which was which. He put them in his wallet, that also had Braille on it, before tucking that inside his jacket and reaching for his cane from where it was rested against a wall.

But his hand met nothing. He frowned. _I could've sworn I left my cane right there, _he grumbled to himself before running his hands against all the walls and crouching down, trying to find his cane.

Eventually his hand met the familiar shape, and he held it in his hand and made his way toward the front door. Thankfully, his keys were on the front table where he had left them.

He managed to get out the door and into the corridor, and he walked briskly, though he dared not run, and soon found himself at the lift. He gently ran his hand along the panel before pushing button with his palm. He felt the earth tremble slightly beneath his feet and heard the ding as the doors opened, and waited until the footsteps coming from inside the lift walked out, and he smelt a very strong, overpowering perfume as a woman walked past. He also heard a small, disgusted gasp, but he ignored it.

Resisting the urge to screw his face up, he stepped into the lift and once more ran his hand along the panel inside, thinking about which was which floor. He found the button at the bottom, and pressed it, hearing the doors shut with a whoosh and he closed his eyes as the lift began to do down. Then he realized.

He wasn't wearing his sunglasses.

Cursing loudly, he waited until the lift was all the way down to the bottom before pressing the button once more and waiting until he arrived at his own floor. He made his way through the corridor once more and back into his apartment.

Ten minutes later he walked out, his face red from the frustration. He had found them eventually, but it had taken some time to do so. This time, he walked to the elevator, and managed to remember where everything was with ease.

He spent the rest of the time walking to his work absolutely furious, and today the giggles of schoolgirls watching a blind man walk past were really getting to him. He should have been used to it by now, and usually he ignored it, but that day, of all days, was worse.

It was the one year anniversary of the death of the only woman he had ever loved, and he was not coping very well. At all.

* * *

><p>Claire moaned and opened her eyes, seeing the ceiling of her bedroom. She rubbed her face and yawned before turning to look at her alarm clock. 8:32.<p>

"What?" she groaned. Yet again, she had slept through her 7:00 alarm, and it was now well after that. She didn't really have anything to do that day, but she usually preferred to not sleep in past 7:00, or 7:30 at the latest.

It was a Tuesday, so she should have had work, but she had been given the week off to relax. Why, she had no idea, but if it meant she could spend her days talking to her uncle, who was also on a week long break, and aunt who was off work on maternity leave, then she wouldn't complain.

Claire sat up slowly, running a hand through her messy blonde curls and slowly slid out of bed, walking like a zombie toward the door of her room, pulling it open and walking down stairs to the kitchen where she could smell waffles.

Peter stood at the bench supervising the making of said waffles, and a very pregnant Emma sat comfortably set up in a chair at the table with many cushions for her back. _There's no doubt that Peter put those cushions there, _Claire thought with an amused grin.

At the sound of her entry, Peter looked up and a grin flashed across his face as he caught sight of his niece. Not because he was happy to see her, though that was true. Rather it was because of the state she was in at that moment.

Claire was wearing pajama pants and a tank top. The pants were silk and covered in Miki mouses, and the tank top was white. Her blonde locks were everywhere, sticking up in the most strange ways, and, as she hadn't bothered to remove her makeup the night before, she now had panda eyes. Of course, she didn't quite realize all this, and simply thought her uncle was glad to see her when his face lit up as she entered.

"Good morning Claire," Emma called to her from the other side of the room as she sat reading a magazine and rubbing her stomach.

"Good morning," Claire managed to reply tiredly as she rubbed her face and walked into the kitchen, her bare feet slapping against the tiled floor.

"Morning Lairy," Peter greeted with a cheeky grin as he used the nickname she hated the most.

"Mmhmm," Claire grunted in reply, and Peter opened his mouth in an 'o', pretending to be horrified.

"What, Em gets a 'Good morning' and I don't? What cruelty, Miss Bennett!" he exclaimed so loudly Claire was sure any other in the apartment building would have heard it.

Claire was about to moan in reply, but Emma, who had been watching and reading their lips, intervened. "Give her a break, Peter. She is obviously tired!"

"Obviously," Peter mused, looking at her with mischievous eyes.

Claire frowned. "What is it?" she asked him, and he looked at her blankly. "You think something's funny, and there's something you're not telling me. What is it?"

Peter gave her a frown in return. "I do not understand what you are implying, Miss Bennett. Do elaborate," he requested, and began to rub his non existent beard, pretending to be seriously thinking, but Claire saw through it. The corners of his mouth twitched as he looked at her hair and eyes, and she glared at him and walked quickly to the bathroom and looked in the mirror at herself.

"Peter!" Claire called out angrily, but all she could hear was her uncle laughing and telling his wife that Claire had yelled out his name.

* * *

><p>"Where in the world were you?" Foggy demanded the moment Matt walked into the office they shared.<p>

"I am sorry I'm late," Matt said, but he didn't look very sincere. "Now, what do we have? Any new cases?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"No, we don't have any new characters, but I do not appreciate you being late all the time. It's annoying! What is your excuse this time?" he demanded to know, and Matt was shocked to see the much more serious side of his good friend.

"I am sorry, Foggy. It won't happen again, I promise," he vowed, but Foggy wasn't fooled for a moment.

"Why, Matt? Why have you been so different lately? You're losing everything, man. You look like hell and you show up late to everything. What is going on?"

Matt sighed. "I just...I'm not coping as well as I used to. I forget where I put things, and I had to get down on my hands and knees this morning just to find my cane. I never used to do these things, but lately I've just been..." he trailed off, not knowing how to explain the way he felt.

Foggy paused. "It's today isn't it?" There was no reply, so he continued. "Her anniversary is today, isn't it Matt?"

Matt bit his lip, his sightless eyes closing. "Yeah."

Foggy reached out, and put a hand on his friend's arm. "Man, I'm sorry. I really am."

Matt nodded slowly, before wiping his eyes quickly and giving a sad smile. "It's the past. Now, do we have any new cases?" he asked once more, but Foggy still had some things to say.

"Matt, you need to do something about the way you're living. I don't know, get a maid or something!"

"A maid?" he asked skeptically.

"Yeah! Someone to help you out with anything, someone to be your eyes!" Foggy was excited by his idea by now.

"I don't know," Matt said, obviously unsure. "I would have to trust them really well."

"Well Matt, you won't know until you try."

* * *

><p><em>Two days later...<em>

"I really like this one!" Emma exclaimed excitedly as she stood in the furniture store, pointing at a nice, wooden rocking chair.

Peter smiled at his wife's enthusiasm, and inspected the chair.

"Would you like to sit in it?" the shopkeeper asked, but Emma didn't reply as she was too busy looking at the chair and hadn't realized that the woman had spoken. After receiving no reply, the woman looked quite offended, so Claire, who stood in the background watching, intervened.

"Oh, I'll ask her. She just didn't hear you," she assured the woman, and stepped forward to Emma who was talking to Peter about it. "Em?" she asked, tapping the woman's arm. "You can have a try and it in it if you want," Claire suggested, and Emma smiled, turning to the shopkeeper with a questioning look.

"Of course," the woman said, looking confused as Emma grinned and Peter helped her into the chair as she lowered herself carefully. She leaned back and closed her eyes as she rocked with a hand on her stomach and a contented smile covered her face.

"I think she likes it," Claire said to Peter with a grin.

"Yeah, I think so," he replied, and turned to the shopkeeper. "I think we'll grab one of these, thanks."

The woman smiled. "Of course. Just come over here and I'll give you the details of the pick-up..."

They went to discuss things, and Emma got up to join them, motioning for Claire to follow. Just as she was about to do so, she felt her phone, which she had put on silent, buzz in her pocket. She fished it out and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Claire? Hey, it's me." Claire bit her lip as she heard the unmistakable sound of her adopted father's voice.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly.

"Look, sweetheart, I know we said you could have the week off, but we have a meeting we need you to attend this afternoon."

Claire held in a moan. Of course she was going to have to go back earlier. "What meeting?"

"You'll find out when you get here. The meeting's at three."

"That's in an hour!"

"Can you get here or not?"

Claire sighed, knowing that her father would find out that she was only 10 minutes away from the office. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Oh, and Claire, see if Peter can come."

"Sure, but he's a bit busy at the moment."

"Just try your best."

"I always do," Claire replied, rolling her eyes.

"Good. See you then. Bye."

"Bye," she replied and hung up, slamming her phone shut in fury as she took a deep breath.

"Is everything alright Claire?" Peter asked her as he finished signing some paper work. All the furniture they had selected for the nursery was now set to be delivered the following day.

"I'll explain in the car," Claire said and they walked out of the shop together.

* * *

><p><em>An hour<em> _later... _

Claire walked into the Primatech building with her uncle by her side, and she smiled and greeted the guards as she passed them. She knew everyone there pretty well, seeing as she had been working there for 7 years. It was supposed to be a friendly and supportive place, and it was. Most of the time, anyway.

For the first few years working at Primatech, Claire had loved it. She could help people and fight the bad guys at the same time. It was great for her, and for Peter too. At that point, they were both still raw and hurting from Nathan's death, but Peter had Emma to help him through. Claire, however, had no significant other to help her through, so she worked and worked, helping others with there problems, until hers became almost non existent.

She smiled as she passed good friends, and embraced a few. Many asked her what she was doing there during her week off, and some even tried to get her to go home and continue resting, as they though she was coming back to work by choice.

Eventually, she and Peter got through the halls filled with their friends and soon arrived at the meeting room, where Noah Bennett and Angela Petrelli were already sitting.

"I am glad you both could come," Angela told them as her grey eyes sparkled with mirth at something Claire couldn't understand. Nothing was particularly funny, she thought. "Please, shut the door behind you and come sit."

They did so, and sat at the long, rectangular table somewhat reluctantly. Claire felt her father's grey-blue eyes on her as she sat, peering at her through his horn-rimmed glasses. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and looked at them, waiting for them to speak.

"Well, I suppose you are wondering why you are here," Noah commented, and Claire fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Yes, well, that would be a natural assumption," she shot at him, and Peter grabbed her knee under the table and gave it a squeeze in warning.

"That's enough, Claire," Angela ordered. "We will have no arguing in this room. We work together here, so try and get along with your father."

Claire resisted the urge to snort. "What do you want with us?" she asked Angela, pointedly ignoring her father.

Angela noticed Claire's actions, but decided to not comment or act upon them. "Well, you two are here as a situation has arisen, and I believe the safest and most sensible thing to do would be to send Claire in."

Claire's eyed narrowed, and Peter tensed. "Tell me," Claire said, leaning forward and placing her hands on the table in front of her. "Does this 'situation' effect this company, or are you just wanting me to do your dirty work?"

Angela set her jaw. "This has nothing to do with us, and everything to do with the safety of those in this company."

"Then do explain it to me," Claire asked, leaning back in her chair to get comfortable, and setting a cold glare at her grandmother.

"I believe you would have heard the rumors about a supposed hero up in Hell's Kitchen?" Claire and Peter nodded warily. "Well, we believe we know who it is." Angela paused, and fixed her son and granddaughter with a stare, gauging their reactions.

"His name is Matt Murdock, you may or may not have heard of him. He is a lawyer in Hell's Kitchen, and he partners with a Franklin Nelson there. They seem to have an outstanding moral code, or at least Mr Murdock does. He refuses to allow them to represent people in court who they know are guilty, and instead will only represent the innocent. That obviously says something for Mr Murdock's ethics, but not much for his business skills. Other than that, we don't know much about Mr Murdock, and that is where you come in Claire."

"What, do you want me to live in the same apartment building as him and spy on him or something?" Claire asked annoyedly.

"Well, we actually did consider that for some time, but an opportunity soon arose..." Angela trailed off looking to Noah to continue.

Noah cleared his throat before continuing. "We received word the other day from some sources that Matt has chosen to hire a maid to help him around his apartment."

Claire snorted. "You want me to go and serve him?"

"Claire, we need to know if he had special abilities or not, and for now, he is one of our top priorities. Whether he has abilities or not, he is obviously good at what he does, and if he decided to hurt one of us...I am not willing to take that chance, and I have a feeling that you wouldn't either. You are one of our best agents, and you have been with us since this company was remade. You are more than capable of playing housemaid for a few weeks!"

Claire took a deep breath. "Fine, I'll do it."

"That's my girl," Noah said, grinning.

"No, I am not _your_ girl," Claire said, almost snarling, before she left the room to prepare for her upcoming task.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Matt was late to work again, but only by 10 minutes. Once he arrived, he had some news for Foggy.<p>

"Hey. You know how you suggested that I hire a maid?" Matt asked, and Foggy nodded before realizing that it would have no effect.

"Yeah, I remember," he said.

"Well, I got in touch with an agency that organizes that sort of thing, and I got a phone call last night and they have someone they think would be good that just appeared on their database. They are posting the details, and since I can't read it, I thought that maybe you could...you know..."

"I'll come over this afternoon," Foggy assured him, and Matt smiled.

"Thanks Foggy. Anyway, let's get on with our work..."

* * *

><p>That afternoon, Matt walked into his apartment, closely followed by Foggy. Thankfully, the information had arrived, and they sat in the lounge room as Foggy pulled the pages out of the folder.<p>

"Okay! Well, it has a whole lot of information here about her background...her name is Claire Butler, and she is from Texas but lives in the area with her uncle and aunt. She will be happy to stay here and look after you, and has a great history of volunteer work with the elderly, so I have a feeling that she won't be the kind to get angry easily-"

"You think that I wouldn't be able to make her angry? I'll have you know that I have great talent in that area!" he said, grinning, and Foggy rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I am sure you will succeed with that soon enough. Anyway, it says that if you call and confirm that you would like to meet her, then she can come over for an interview tomorrow afternoon. Do you want me to get the phone?"

Matt thought for a little, before nodding, and soon enough the cool feel of the phone with in his hand and he felt the Braille on the buttons and dialed the number Foggy told him from the information package.

* * *

><p><em>The next day... <em>

Claire smoothed her hair and looked at her appearance in the mirror. She was in a grey business suit as she wished to make a good impression on the man who would be employing her. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, and she had applied a light amount of makeup to her face.

She walked from the bathroom and into her room, and dug through her pile of shoes before finding her nice heeled boots and slipping them on. She instantly felt taller and much more confident, and she straightened herself, grabbed her bag and walked out of her room.

When she walked past the kitchen, Peter stopped her. "Hey kid," he said, smiling.

"Hey. I am going for the interview now," she told him.

"I know. Stay safe, okay?" he ordered, and she nodded.

"I will," she promised and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

She walked into the lounge and gave Emma a big hug before leaving, ready for her interview.

Well, sort of.

* * *

><p>When she got to the apartment building, Claire paused and checked the room number that she had written down on a piece of paper. 308. She checked the directory, and confirmed what she had thought. That was one of three very large rooms up on the top level.<p>

She hopped into the elevator, and was alone. She hit the button for the top level and waited until she arrived. Once she did, she walked through the halls past room 307 until she arrived at the one she had been looking for. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

There was little bit of noise from inside before the door opened and her possible new employer stood before her. He didn't look more than 5 years older than her, and was fairly tall. Then again, compared to her, everyone was tall.

He had a handsome face, and dark brown hair. He was wearing an expensive looking grey suit, and had a cane in his left hand.

_Wait, a cane? _she though to herself, frowning with confusion, until she looked up and realized that he was also wearing sunglasses inside.

"You must be Claire, and I take it from your silence that you weren't aware of my sight problems," he said, and Claire thought she detected some slight humor in his voice.

"Yes, I am. Sorry, I was just a bit...surprised."

"It's fine," he dismissed. "Most people are. Come on in," he invited her, and stepped aside so she could enter.

As she stepped over the threshold, she looked around the house, allowing herself to be more obvious in doing so as her only other company was blind. The apartment was not attractive, to her anyway. It was mainly dark colors, and there wasn't much light coming in though the windows. It was clean, and that was the main thing. Obviously this man was abe to get along by himself, for a little bit anyway, and she wouldn't have to be doing everything for her.

"So, let's sit and talk in here," he suggested, and led her into a living room with black leather lounge chairs. She watched how he carefully walked with his cane in front of him to ensure that he didn't run into anything.

Once they were seated, he began to speak. "I, um, don't know about the formalities for this sort of thing, but I think we are supposed to talk about amount paid, hours worked and that sort of thing and make sure everything will work out."

"That sounds about right, but I wouldn't know either," Claire replied.

"So, um, I guess I have to start off with a pretty obvious question. I have a few guest rooms here, so you could either stay here, or stay somewhere close by. It depends on your preference, really. Which do you think you would like to do?"

"Well, that depends. Are you really ready to share your house with a total stranger?"

"Well, if we are spending a lot of time together, then we won't be strangers for very long anyway. Besides, I am going to be trusting you with a lot anyway, me being blind and all."

Claire took a deep breath, and decided to talk about his sight. "Well, as you are aware of, I didn't know about your...um, sight-"

"Or lack thereof," he commented with a smirk.

"Yeah. But, it doesn't really make a difference to me. I mean, most people want to do incredible things with their lives, but I am pretty content with who I am and what I am doing. I guess getting life experience is about spending time with people, doing life, so I really don't mind your sight. At all, really."

"Well, we can talk about that more later on. So, what do you think you should get paid?"

"I don't really mind. If I am staying here, it will obviously be less."

"Not necessarily. If you are staying here, then you would be having longer hours than if you lived on the other side of the city and had to allow time for travel. Besides, if you were far away, I don't think I would be comfortable with you taking the subway late at night."

Claire smiled. "Trust me, My Murdock. I can look after myself."

"Well, what do you think would be better?"

"I think that it would probably be a lot more convenient for both of us if I stayed here, but I really don't mind. I am just happy to have a job."

"Well, then you will be staying here. If that doesn't work out, you are welcome to move. I won't be offended. If I snore too loudly, then you are allowed to move out again."

Claire laughed, mainly for the sake of letting him know that he had amused her. "Don't worry, I am used to snoring. My younger brother sounds like a chainsaw."

Matt laughed. "So, I think it would be best if we began to get to know one another before any decisions are made. If we are going to be spending a lot of time together, we might as well get to know each other."

Claire nodded, but realized he wouldn't be able to tell. "Okay," she said out loud.

"So, um, I don't really know where to start."

"How about we just ask one question, then the other will answer it and ask their own, and then the other will answer and so on," Claire suggested, and Matt nodded.

"Sure. You start."

"Okay. Um, what kinds of things do you hate?"

"Well, I don't know why, but I have never been able to stand the smell of banana."

Claire laughed. "Really?"

"Yep," he replied, popping the 'p'. "Now, your turn to answer. What kinds of things do you hate?"

Claire bit her lip, thinking. "Guys, well, people in general, who think they are better than everyone else, and that they deserve recognition over others, and will do anything to get it."

"Now, I agree with that one."

"Well, it's nice to know we have at least one thing in common. Now, what is your favorite movie?"

Matt laughed. "I am beginning to think this quiz is more for the sake of fun than business."

"Well, sometimes business is just way too boring for my tastes. Now, what is your favorite movie?"

"I haven't watched a movie in a while."

Claire stopped, realizing her mistake. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine. I'm used to it."

"Well, that's doesn't mean it's alright. I should have thought more about what I was saying."

"You're not used to having to think about everything before you say it, it's alright. And you shouldn't have to, I am not offended."

"Well, I am glad you're not offended, I am just a bit disappointed in myself."

"Don't be."

"No, I should've thought about it. You see, I am staying with my aunt and uncle at the moment, and my aunt is deaf, but she can read lips. I always have to remember to tap her on the shoulder and get her to look at me before I speak, otherwise she doesn't know that I am saying. I am used to thinking about everything before I say it, I am just a little be tired today. I'll try my best to not let that happen anymore."

"No, don't. If I am supposed to be spending a lot of time with you, I don't want my sight to be a sensitive topic. One of the problems I have is whether or not you will feel comfortable with my eyes. I mean, I can't wear my sunglasses all the time, and when I take them off, a lot of people get really uncomfortable."

Claire nodded. "I think I can handle it."

"Are you sure? It's...not something you see every day."

"Trust me, Mr Murdock, I can handle it. Show me now if you want to."

Matt paused. This was supposed to be a professional meeting, yet this young woman was getting under his skin already. She seemed nice, and sweet, but she also seemed intelligent. She had been surprised, but not disgusted at his blindness, but her reaction to his appearance remained to be seen.

He took a deep breath, and slowly slid his sunglasses off his face, but he heard nothing from Claire.

Claire looked at him, and her face screwed up, not in disgust, not in horror, but in pity. His eyes were a light, milky blue all over, and there were scars around them.

"Claire?" he asked, not knowing what her reaction would be.

"It's fine, I've seen worse."

Matt snorted. "I don't know where you would've seen worse than this."

"You'd be surprised, Mr Murdock."

"Call me Matt."

"Okay, Matt. What happened to you?" He paused, and Claire continued. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, I just haven't really had to explain it for a while."

"That's fine, Matt. You don't have to. I am not too curious. But if there is ever anything I can do, or get you, to help with that, I will."

"Help with what?"

"The burning."

He frowned and put his sunglasses back on his face. "What are you talking about?"

"Your eyes are screwed up, and the scars around them are burns, and bad ones too. They are red and irritated, so it's a natural assumption that it would be hurting you. Am I right?"

"Well, a little," Matt admitted, though he was somewhat surprised at her.

"Just as I thought. Well there are creams and such you can get for that, so if there is anything I can do or get to help, let me know, okay?"

Matt couldn't help but let a small smile show on his face.

"What is it?" Claire asked.

"Never mind," he replied flippantly.

"You're smiling. Why are you smiling?"

"It's just...don't take this the wrong way, but...you sound like my mother used to."

Claire paused, before letting out a small laugh. "Yeah, I've been told I can be a little pushy sometimes. I think I get it from my mother, actually."

"She must be quite a lady."

"Yeah, she's and interesting person. She never ceases to amaze and surprise me."

"Well, she sounds like the kind of person I'd like to meet one day," Matt said thoughtfully, and Claire laughed.

"She'd probably know your entire life story within ten minutes."

"Well, you too seem to have a lot in common. You're not too bad at asking questions either."

"Yeah, my uncle complains about my constant questions a lot."

Matt nodded with a grin. Claire was surprisingly easy to talk to, and he liked the sound of her voice for some odd reason. "So, at the moment you live with your aunt and uncle. What are they like?"

"Well, as you know, my aunt, Emma, is deaf. I am pretty sure it has been since birth. She is the sweetest though, and she and I get along like sisters. We talk, we giggle, we go shopping, and all sorts of things. And, I am pleased to announce, that she is now 8 months pregnant with her first child," Claire beamed at her last statement, and though Matt couldn't see it, he could feel her excitement through the tone of her voice.

"Congratulations! So, you're gonna have a cousin?"

"Yep," Claire replied. "The first one I have ever had. But it will be a little different, because I actually talked to Emma and Peter a couple weeks ago and they said that they would prefer it if the baby knew me as 'Auntie Claire', seeing as I am way older than he or she is. Anyways, I actually sort of wanted to move out before the baby was born, not because I have a huge problem with crying all night long, but I just feel like looking after their first child should be something they do together, you know?"

"I agree. Of course, then there's the whole diaper changing thing that you want to avoid."

"That too," Claire said with a laugh. "But I am looking forward to spending time with the baby regardless of all night long crying and constant diaper changing."

"Well, they start out cute, I hear. But then again, I wouldn't know."

Claire smiled sadly. "They do," was all she could say.

There was an awkward silence, and Matt decided to speak. "So, um, do you have any friends? I mean, sorry, that was phrased badly." Claire couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips. "I'll try again. What are your friends like?"

"I actually don't have many that I see on a regular basis, but I keep in contact with a lot of old friends. I moved around a bit when I was a kid."

"What was your family like?"

"My family? Well, I had a little brother called Lyle, and then there was my Mom and my Dad. My Mom and I sometimes fought a little, and there was the teenage rebellion stage a while back, but in the end she was and always will be the best and I love her very much. My Dad was a bit different. There was a time when we got along so well, he was like my best friend and I told him everything, but then things changed and over time I just stopped talking to him. He did things that I will never forgive him for, and there isn't really anything I can do about that."

"Are you sure you could never forgive him?" Matt asked.

Claire paused. She had barely known this man for more than twenty minutes, but she felt as though she should tell him, trust him. But she knew she could never so that. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Maybe whatever happened wasn't his fault, or he didn't mean to-"

"I know both sides of this story, Mr Murdock," Claire cut in coldly. "I know what he thought, what he did, and why he did it. And I will not forgive him."

Matt looked truly sad. "I am sorry if I was over the line, Claire. It's just that my father died when I was young, and I have missed him so much. I just don't want you to lose yours too, especially when he's still alive."

"Thanks, Matt. It means a lot that you care, but, well, my father is a sensitive topic."

"I gathered," he said with a smirk.

She was about to answer, but she her phone rang. "I thought I put it on silent, sorry," she apologized and took it out of her pocket to see who it was. "Sorry, Matt, I have to take this. It's my very uptight grandmother."

Matt nodded, and Claire answered the phone. "What do you want?" she asked, but she tried to keep some of the ice out of her tone due to Matt's presence.

"Claire, it's me, Peter."

"Peter, why didn't you call me on your own phone?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't answer it if my number came up, but you always answer if Ma is ringing."

"That's because I know I can ignore you and you won't get upset or make my life a living hell. Now, I'm busy. Good bye."

"No, no, wait-"

Peter's voice was cut off as Claire pressed the 'End Call' button, and turned back to Matt.

"I thought it was your uptight grandmother?" Matt asked, confused, though he had heard the whole conversation from both sides due to his super hearing.

"So did I, but it turns out my uncle must have just taken her phone and rung me for some reason. He knows I often ignore my phone if it comes up with his number."

"Why's that?"

"Oh, he's just annoying. I know I should probably answer for safety reasons, but if I'm busy, I just ignore it. My grandmother, however is a completely different sto-" she was cut off as the phone rang again. Groaning, she picked it up, and without looking at it she answered it.

"Peter, I swear, I will kill-"

"Hey Claire, it's not Peter, it's me!"

Claire laughed. "Hey Trace, sorry, I thought you were Pete. He's been annoying the heck out of my again."

"So things are normal with you?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Look, I really miss you and all and I would love to talk, but I am kind of in a job interview at the moment."

"Really? I am so sorry for interrupting!"

"No, that's fine, it's a lot more relaxed than most."

"It's a guy, isn't it."

"What?" Claire asked, confused.

"You're meeting with a guy."

"Okay, that's unimportant yet creepy. How did you know that?"

"You're happy."

"I'm like that a lot, Trace."

"Okay, you're happier. I like this guy already. Now, I wish you the best of luck with him. I'll let you go, but you call me later and give me details, okay?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "Sure. See ya Trace."

"Bye!"

After hanging up, Claire turned to Matt. "I am so sorry. I guess I am really popular these days!"

He laughed. "I see. Who was that?"

"Oh, that was my friend Tracy. She and I are pretty close, but she is on...umm...holidays, at the moment, so I haven't seen her for a while." Matt frowned as her heartbeat quickened, and he could tell that she was lying, but he didn't know why.

"Alright. How long have you known her for?"

"Nine years."

"Wow! You've been friends for that long?"

"Yep, and we've never even had so much as a disagreement."

"Really? I have had the same best friend since kindergarten, and we fight like cats and dogs."

"Yes, well, Trace and I are different. We've been through a lot together, and I couldn't imagine getting through it all without her."

Matt nodded. "Well, I guess when you've been through things together it makes a difference." He had been through a lot, and while Foggy had been a strange comfort to him in those times, he had never actually been able to tell his friend the truth about his abilities.

"Yeah, I guess so," Claire said, smiling. There was a silence, and she glanced down at her watch. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Matt, but it is getting kinda late and I have to go and help Emma out with making dinner. It's kind of our bonding time, and as much as I am enjoying talking, I really can't miss it. These days I manage to persuade her to sit down and let me do most of it under her instruction, and if I'm not there to make it, Peter will, and if he makes it, well, it won't exactly be edible."

Matt laughed. "Well, I think we have come to certain agreements here, and gotten off on a good start. When do you want to start?"

"Well, when would be the earliest that you would be ready for me?" Claire asked.

"Tomorrow." Matt said with a snort.

Claire smiled. "How about I start on Monday? I kind of have to break the news to Pete and Em."

"Of course," Matt agreed. "I will see you on this coming Monday then?"

"Sure," Claire said with a smile. "I should get going now."

"Of course." Matt got up to show her to the door, and Claire nearly objected, but decided to let it go.

They walked to the door together, and Matt turned to Claire. Well, where he thought she was anyway.

"It was nice meeting you, Claire," Matt said, as he stuck his hand out. Claire reached hers out and guiding it to connect with his, and Matt was surprised at how soft, yet strong, Claire's hand was.

"You too, Matt," Claire replied, and she turned and opened the door, and walking through it.

Matt waited until the clopping of her heels against the floor disappeared down the hall before shutting the door. He leaned against the wall, thinking about how strange Claire really was.

Meanwhile, Claire stood in the elevator, waiting for it to go down to the ground level, and she couldn't help the smile that ha made it's way onto her face.

The next few months were going to be interesting, to say the least.

* * *

><p><strong>There is the first chapter! I hope you all enjoyed! PLEASE let me know what you thought! :)<strong>


	2. Orientation of a Sort

**AN: Here is the next chapter! I hope you liked the last one! :) Thank you so much to any and all who reviewed, it is greatly appreciated! I am so sorry this chapter is so short, but I will have you know that it was INCREDIBLY difficult to write as I have had really horrible writers' block over the last few weeks/months. I have also been having some health problems that have interfered with my writing severely, which I am not too happy about. :( But I am trying my best, promise! And, just to hint at you all, reviews give me inspiration. ;)**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot and any OCs. **

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><p>Claire sighed and turned over slightly in her sleep. She was exhausted, and had fallen asleep on the couch while trying to work on a report about Matt. It was only nine in the morning, but she had gotten up early to work on the report so she could drop it into the office on her way to talk to her future employer about some things over lunch at a new, reasonably cheap restaurant in town.<p>

After being asleep for only 10 minutes, Claire felt a strange tickle on her face, and she scrunched her nose, moving slightly and sighing contentedly as she continued to sleep peacefully. She frowned as a distant voice penetrated into her dream, and she slowly opened her eyes.

There was a thudding of footsteps and the slam of a door, and Claire sat up slowly, confused. Then, she felt something wet on her, and she looked down,

She was soaked.

With honey.

She stood and moaned. "PETER!" she screeched.

"What?" came a confused voice, and her uncle stumbled into the room with a frown. He took in her appearance and soon doubled over laughing.

"Peter! It's not funny! Did you do this?" Claire demanded, glaring at him dangerously.

He shook his head quickly, but she didn't believe him. She stood and began to walk toward him, and his smile faded as he jumped back, out of her reach.

"I didn't do it, I swear!" he insisted, but Claire continued to harass her poor uncle, still not believing his words.

"Then why did you laugh?" she demanded angrily, still advancing on Peter, who was now backed into a corner, literally.

"C-Claire, please, you must admit, it was funny..." Her eyes flared, and he instantly regretted his words. "NO, it wasn't funny at all. It was the opposite, actually. Tragic. Horrid. I am so sorry that happened to you. Whoever did it deserves to be...punished...or...something..."

"Peter, if you didn't do this, then who did?" Claire demanded. "I am sure Emma wouldn't have dared do such a thing to me!"

Peter gulped. "Well, there is only one person who would..." he trailed off, unsure.

Claire frowned, before it dawned on her. "He's here, isn't he?" she asked her uncle, and he gave her a pained and pitiful smile.

Claire took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. _In through the nose...out through the mouth..._

And then she let it out.

"LYLLLEEEE!"

* * *

><p>Matt yawned, stretching his muscles and opening his sightless eyes. He felt refreshed and ready for the day, something that had become a rarity for him over the past year. He lay there for a few moments before slowly sitting up, the bedcovers gathered at his waist as he slid his hand over to the Braille clock he had on the bedside table.<p>

It was 9:30. Not too bad, but not too great either. Groaning, Matt rubbed his face and pulled the covers off fully, turning and swinging his feet out bed. He stood and walked around the room, his hands running along the walls as he did. Usually, he wouldn't have to, but lately he had found himself doing so for reasons unknown even to him. It just made him feel safer.

His stomach grumbled, and he walked into the kitchen, making sure he lifted his foot well over the step in the doorway to the kitchen. He had stubbed his toes on it many times, and had learned from his mistakes.

His bare feet slapped on the cold, tiled floor and he swung the cupboard door open, leaning on it as his hands ran along the shelves, reading the Braille that told him what food item was what. He found the bread, pulled the packet out and stepped back, tapping the cupboard doors lightly with his hands and left them to close themselves with a dull thud. He took three steps across the room to the bench where the toaster was, and he checked to see that it was plugged into the wall.

He put two bread pieces in the toaster and walked back over to the cupboard to retrieve his spreads.

It was shaping up to be a pretty ordinary day.

* * *

><p>At noon that same day, Matt found himself seated alone at a table in a restaurant, waiting for Claire to show. She was now 20 minutes late, and he was confused at to why this would be. She had been there on time for their initial interview, and she didn't seem like the person to take too long to do things.<p>

Finally, the door opened, and he heard her soft voice as she excused herself as she walked past people and their chairs before finally making it to their table.

"I am so sorry I am late, Matt!" she apologized immediately as she sat.

"It's fine, Claire. How are you?" Matt asked, shrugging and brushing off her mistake.

"I am fine," Claire breathed, happy that he wasn't too mad about her being late. "Yourself?"

"I am good," he replied, and Claire took her time to look him over. He was in a suit, as was usual in his profession, and he was wearing his sunglasses once more.

"I am really, very sorry I am so late," she apologized once more. "I was just getting some last minute stuff done, and I lost track of time."

_Lie. _Matt was actually shocked when her heart rate sped up, telling him that she was lying. Not only was it such a small thing to lie about, but she hadn't lied to him yet. He trusted her, more that he should, but why on earth would she lie about something so small?

"What were you getting done?" he asked cautiously.

"Oh, just something a friend of mine wanted me to write for him," she began to explain. "A character reference. But, I got it done and got here as fast as I could."

Matt decided to not pursue the issue any further, though he knew she was lying. "You smell really sweet today...sweeter than last time," he told her, and she paused, frowning a little.

"Umm, pardon?" she asked, confused.

"It's just, last time, you smelled like lavender, but today...you smell like honey."

She sighed. "I cannot get anything past you, can I? Fine, I didn't lose track of time, I just let myself sleep for a little bit, and while I was asleep on the couch, my brother showed up for a visit, and, as a greeting, decided to cover my stomach and arms with honey, so I woke up in a wonderful predicament."

Matt chuckled, and was relieved to know she wasn't lying about this. It was also genuinely funny.

"He sounds like a fun guy," Matt told her.

"Oh yeah," she replied sarcastically. "Real fun."

"Excuse me, sir, ma'am, is there anything we can get for you this evening?" a waiter asked, and Claire turned to look at him. Matt didn't bother to move his head, and the old man didn't look impressed by the apparent lack of manners.

Claire picked up the menu from the table. "Ummm, I'll just have a steak and salad, please." She then realized that Matt would have no idea what was on the menu. "Matt? They have-"

"Steak and salad sounds great," he interrupted. "I'll just have what you're having."

"All right, that's two steaks with salads on the side?" the waiter double checked, and Claire nodded in confirmation as he jotted it down. "Will there be anything else? Drinks, perhaps?"

"Just water for me," Claire replied, before turning to Matt.

"Water," he told the waiter quickly.

The waiter jotted it all down before turning to Matt. "I'm sorry sir, but I am going to have to ask you to remove your sunglasses." Matt heard Claire's heartbeat speed up, and he could tell she was angry. "We don't allow them to be worn inside the restaurant."

Before Matt had a chance to reply for himself, Claire beat him to it. "You can make an exception, sir," she told the waiter firmly.

"I am sorry, but there are no exceptions. We have rules for a reason, and they are to be upheld. There is a dress code in here."

"Yes, well, it looks like the code will have to be broken for this particular occasion," Claire informed him.

"Look, ma'am, I don't know who you think you are, but-"

"If you have any problems with my behavior, feel free to give my grandmother a ring and have a chat with her. Here's her business card for you," she leant over and handed it to the man, and Matt sensed the man pausing.

"That will not be necessary, ma'am. I shall go and inform the other waiters to not bother you two. Your food should be ready soon." With that, he turned and all but ran from the table.

Matt turned to Claire, and she saw one of his eyebrows rise above the line of his sunglasses.

"What?" she asked innocently, leaning back in her chair comfortably.

"Well, first of all, I am able to defend myself in those situations, as I have been living with my lack of sight and need to wear sunglasses for a long time now. And secondly, why did he change his mind so quickly?"

"I handed him my grandmother's card," Claire told him simply.

"And why would that make a difference?"

"Trust me, it does. Let's just say I have friends and family in high places, and as a result of that, I know how to get what I want, when I want and how I want, and today, I wanted you to be comfortable. So I arranged it."

Matt shook his head with wonder. "You are completely unlike anyone I have ever met," he told her in awe. "How on earth did you become so..."

"Bold?" Claire suggested, and he nodded. "I've learnt the best ways to get what is necessary in life, and I've had good teachers. I suppose some would call it arrogant, but I prefer to think that I just know my way around people a little better than absolutely necessary. I guess I have my father to thank for that."

"What is he like?" Matt asked, trying to make conversation.

"He was...absent. But that didn't mean I loved him any less. I adored him as I grew up, and always looked forward to him coming home after a business trip. Every time he was delayed I would cry myself to sleep, but the moment he eventually walked through the door a few days later, I would run to him. He didn't even have to apologize, because I just forgot all about it straight away. He was a good man, but...sometimes life can change even the best of men."

Matt frowned. "What happened to him?"

"He changed. Well, I found out some things about him I didn't want to know. I still love him, I just...all the secrets he kept tore our family apart, and now I can't even look him in the eye," she said regretfully.

"So who do you go to if you ever need help?"

"My uncle is always there for me, no matter what. He always has been. He's my best friend all at once, and I really love him," she explained, and Matt could hear in her voice that she really meant what she was saying, though her heart was racing. This was obviously bringing some things up that she didn't want to remember, as he sensed fear in her.

"I am glad that there was someone to care for you. But make sure you let me know if there is anything you need. You aren't living with your uncle any more, so he can't be there every time, but I can, and I will do my best to help you," he promised, and Claire smiled.

"Thanks, but I mainly look after myself these days," she replied, and the waiter soon returned, and Matt could hear by his racing heartbeat that he was nervous.

"I have your food, Miss Petrelli," the waiter informed her, and she nodded.

"Thank you," she said calmly, motioning for the him to put them down.

Matt heard the plates being put down, and felt the vibration of the table.

Matt scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Fair enough. So, when would you like to start work?" he asked her, deciding it was time to get down to business.

"I honestly don't mind. Is there any reason you would like me to start later or earlier?"

"No, not that I can think of. I am open to any time that suits you, honestly," he replied, trying to make things easier on her.

"How about next week sometime?" Claire suggested, and Matt nodded. "Does Monday sound alright?"

"It sounds perfect, but I do start work pretty early. In the afternoon or evening sometime maybe?" he asked, and she now nodded. "How does 6 o'clock sound for you?"

"Fine. I will pack my things over this coming weekend, and say my goodbyes to everyone. Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"Giving me a job, a place to belong. I don't like just staying there at my uncle's and not being able to do anything to really contribute. I am just...there, I guess," she finished lamely.

"I am sure they are happy to have you there though," Matt assured her.

"Maybe. I do want to be there to help Emma through the last stages of her pregnancy, but at the same time I don't want to smother her and Peter. This is an important time for them, and I don't want to get in the way of them enjoying going through the ups and downs together. I am also not a huge fan of changing nappies, so maybe I'll just time my visits right," Claire added with a smirk, and Matt laughed.

"That sounds like a good plan. So...tell me about yourself. What kinds of things do you like to do for fun?" he asked, making more conversation. Claire really was more interesting to talk to than other girls.

"Well, back in Texas I loved horse riding, but I guess that's a bit difficult here," she said, laughing. "These days, while I enjoy adventure and going out and doing things and making memories, I will always love that feeling when you smuggle up in front of a movie with a bowl of popcorn and just watch it until you fall asleep. It's amazing."

Matt nodded. "Well, I wouldn't know, but I am sure that is just as good as you say it is," he said, and Claire bit her lip, feeling sorry for mentioning it.

"What about you?" she asked to break the tension. "What kinds of things do you do for fun, in your spare time?"

Matt snorted. "Spare time? Oh! I remember that..." he trailed off as though he were reminiscing about a time long past. "I don't really have much spare time. I usually spend it sleeping, I guess."

"That doesn't count!" Claire exclaimed, shocked at his lack of social life and interests outside of work. "So all you do is work?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"It's not that bad. I like my work," he defended, but Claire was still shocked.

"Matt, you're supposed to work to live, not live to work. All work and no play will make Matt a dull boy, and I am going to find at least 4 things to do each month where I take you out and you can have some fun outside of work. All of your enjoyment can't come from arguing inside a courtroom! You have to get out and experience the world! I understand that it might be hard for you, but you have to give it a try. Please? For me?" she pleaded, and he smiled.

"We can try it, I suppose," he acquiesced finally. He had only known the woman for a few days and she was already taking over! The strange thing was that in some strange way, he kind of liked it. Ever since the accident that had left him blind as a child he had only ever trusted himself to do things, but it was nice to have someone else there to watch out for him and give him things to do. Between her and Foggy, he was sure going to have his hands full from then on!

"Good. Now, I have a question," she announced, and he nodded.

"Yes...?"

"How do you feel about jumping castles?"

* * *

><p>Claire found herself deliriously happy by the time she returned home from her lunch with Matt. She trotted up the driveway and opened the already unlocked front door, kicking her heels off immediately and throwing her jacket over one of the sofas in the lounge room.<p>

"Hey!" an indignant voice called, and Claire turned to see Lyle sitting on the couch, part of her jacket covering his face.

"Whoops," Claire said unenthusiastically. "Didn't see you there. Of course, had I noticed your presence the outcome probably would've been worse."

He sighed, removing the item of clothing off himself. "Claire," he began with a sigh, but she ignored him and walked away, headed for the kitchen.

She put the kettle on to boil as she prepared to make some tea (coffee was not allowed in the house during Emma's pregnancy as she couldn't even stand the smell). She heard her brother's bare feet on the tiled floor behind her, but she ignored it and continued preparing her drink, pulling out a cup and grabbing a tea bag.

"Claire, you can't seriously still be mad about this morning," Lyle told her with a roll of his eyes. He sat himself on the counter near the kettle so as to be unavoidable, but Claire still insisted on ignoring him. "Claire, are you really ignoring me right now?" No reply. "Are we still children?"

Claire sighed, slamming the cup down on the counter. "Look, Lyle, I've had a really good day that has left me in an awesome mood, and I am trying to ignore you in the hope that you will not ruin my buzz, yet you persist to irritate me!"

"Lyle, are you annoying your sister again?" Emma asked as she walked (waddled) into the kitchen, a plate covered in crumbs in hand.

"No ma'am, just trying to make amends," he replied respectfully, trying to get on the pregnant woman's good side.

"He was being a jerk," Claire confirmed.

"Ignore him," Emma told her.

"I was," Claire replied. "He's just an ass that never seems to give up."

"He will eventually, just keep ignoring," the older woman advised. "How was your lunch date?"

"You had a lunch date?" Lyle asked, hopping down from the counter, his bare feet hitting the floor with a thud. "How come I am just hearing about this now_?" _

"Because you're an annoying ass that doesn't know when to give up," Claire shot back, picking up the kettle and pouring the boiling water into the cup. "And it wasn't a lunch date, it was a meeting."

"For what?"

"She's getting a new job," Peter told him as he walked into the kitchen. He took his wife's plate from her hand and began to rinse it.

"And why didn't I know this?" Lyle asked, feigning offence.

"Because you're an annoying ass that doesn't know when to give up," Claire repeated herself. "That, and you only arrived this morning, and between rushing to get ready for the meeting and yelling at you there wasn't a whole lot of time for us to catch up."

"Well is there anything else I need to know about your life?" he asked. "Are you dating? Engaged? Pregnant?"

Claire smirked. "Nope to all three. Don't have the time. What about you, Lyle? Are you dating? Engaged? Pregnant?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Ha-ha. Very funny," he told her, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turned to Peter, who had an arm wrapped around his wife's waist. "She thinks she's so funny."

Peter snorted. "Yeah," he said, agreeing. Claire and Emma both glared at him. "It's because she is," he said awkwardly. "Funny, I mean."

Claire rolled her eyes at his weak attempt at a cover up and turned back to her brother. "I'll tell you who is pregnant though," she continued, gesturing toward Emma.

"Yeah, I noticed," Lyle commented, looking at Emma's 8 month old belly.

"Well good, because that means you're making dinner tonight. She's not staying on her feet for hours cooking food for you. Make yourself useful," Claire ordered before taking Emma's elbow and leading her out of the room before Lyle could protest.

Lyle looked at Peter with irritation. "Do we really just let them walk all over us like that? I mean, we're the men, right?"

Peter laughed and ruffled his hair. "So young, so naive. You'll learn eventually. In the meantime, have fun making a mess in my kitchen and then cleaning it up."

And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving a very panicked Lyle all alone.

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><p><strong>Again, I am so sorry for the super long delay, I feel horrible! Please leave a review...<strong>


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